Page 38 of Deliah
“Shut up, babe. Two minutes.”
He walked in like he owned the place. And then he saw him. Damion. Still. Composed. Leaning against the kitchen like he was born there.
Jay stopped cold, eyes narrowing instantly. “Who the fuck is this?”
Damion didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. “I was about to ask you the same thing,” he replied, voice level.
“Jay, don’t start,” I warned, heart racing.
“Start?” he barked, eyes blazing now. “You’ve got some guy in here while you’re still fucking me?”
I blinked in disbelief. Anger rose in my chest like a scream trying to claw its way out.
“Fucking you?” I snapped. “You barely speak to me. The only reason you’re here is because you want your fucking weed. And let’s get one thing clear—I’m not yours. You made that very fucking clear when you were out screwing anyone and everyone.”
His face twisted into something I recognised—something ugly. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
I stepped forward, fists clenched at my sides, voice shaking but hard. “Oh, don’t I? You think you can treat me like shit, disappear for days, then show up fuming because someone else is in my apartment? You don’t get to be jealous. You don’t get to have me, Jay.”
He sneered. “Fuck off, Deliah. Just give me the fucking weed.”
Silence dropped like a stone. And then Damion moved. Not fast. Not loud. Just... there. Closer. Taller. Solid. A stillness that meant something was about to snap.
“Don’t you fucking dare talk to her like that.”
His voice wasn’t raised. But it cut through the room like a knife. Low. Even. Steady. The kind of voice that made bones remember how easily they could break.
Jay scoffed. “Oh, what, you her new saviour now?”
“No,” Damion said, eyes locked on his. “I just don’t like disrespect. Especially not in her own home.”
Jay laughed. Dry. Nasty. “Fuck off, mate. This has got nothing to do with you.”
That was the final snap. “Just take your shit and get the fuck out of my apartment!” I shouted, voice breaking.
Jay turned on me. Stepped forward. I saw it before he moved—his jaw set, his fingers twitching. I knew that look. He raised his hand. But he never reached me. Because Damion was there. In one sharp motion, he grabbed Jay’s wrist mid-air and twisted it just enough to make the message clear.
“Try that again. Try and put your hands on her,” Damion said, his voice dropping into something lethal. “Go on, do it, and I’ll make sure you leave here in a body bag.”
The room went still. I could barely breathe. Jay yanked his arm back and looked at both of us—eyes flicking between Damion and me, down to the floor, back up again. He was calculating. Weighing up his chances. And he wasn’t stupid. He knew he’d lost this one.
“She’ll see through you eventually,” he muttered to Damion, venom in every syllable. “You’re not special. You’re just new.”
Damion didn’t reply. He didn’t have to. Jay turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him like a child who hadn’t gotten his way. I stood there, chest heaving. I grabbed the stash from the cupboard, stormed to the hallway, flung the door open, and hurled it at him.
“Here’s your fucking weed!” I shouted.
He caught it clumsily, stumbled, then disappeared down the corridor. I slammed the door so hard the apartment shook. Frames rattled. Something fell off a shelf. And then—silence.Just the sound of my breathing. Fast. Uneven. Damion still hadn’t moved.
I let out a shaky breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding. The whole apartment was silent now—except for the hum of the fridge and the sound of my pulse still thrumming in my ears. Damion turned to me slowly, voice softer now but still simmering beneath the calm. “He show up like that often?”
I shook my head, eyes fixed on the floor. “No. Just when he wants something.”
He nodded once. Didn’t press. Didn’t ask the hundred questions I knew were simmering behind those sharp eyes.
“You okay?” he asked gently.
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Was I okay? I was. I wasn’t. I didn’t know. So I said the easiest thing. “Yeah.”
